Alone In My Mind
by voldielover
Summary: PostHBPSeverus and Draco immediately following their escape from Hogwarts. It shows two entirely different people, that are so similar, deal with their pain.
1. Preface

**Alone In My Mind...**

**Preface**

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**Warning: This is a Preface. Not a prologue. If you don't know the difference. Find a dictionary.**

It's purpose is to set the mood, not lead up to the story. Basically, it doesn't mention the characters and you don't need to read it. So, you can save yourself 10 minutes and many uttered oaths if you want and just click that little button the right. The blue one. Otherwise, no flames if you don't like it. I warned you.

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You could say I was vengeful. Selfish. Greedy. But I would say I did what needed to be done. There is not much left in the end. A shattered dream, hopes never realized. Like I said--not much, when you consider what's gone. Fear, distress, confusion…disaster.

Many devastating mistakes are made under these.

It is better to have realized what could have been and never achieve it, then to achieve it and lose it due to a moment's indecision. Either way a mark is left. The former is regret. Nothing more, and in time, is forgotten. The latter is deadly.

Once a taste of Eden is given it is not quickly forgotten. And, unless it is forever the longing will continue to writhe inside a person like many surreptitious snakes.

So you see, a person can never truly achieve anything more. Anything achieved almost never equates and certainly never exceeds.

'But, isn't the memory, of even a short time in complete bliss, worth the memory to cherish?' You ask?

A person is always judging. Life vs. Memory. Do you see the dilemma?

For certain, a memory is always the victor. Things seem much sweeter when all the pain is gone and just a fuzzy, happy haze surrounds our past. Which, by the way, is always the case.

A person shall strive and struggle after the memory of a shattered dream but never get another. And, ironical enough, even if life shoved another into their very face they wouldn't notice. So caught up a person would be despairing in their own delusion .

So you see. In this situation there are but two choices. To strive or to give up. But that fact of the matter is. Both are deadly.

You may be wondering, _'Why'_? Why did I write this? How is this relevant? Is this just random drabble? Mere listless words drawn on paper to take up space? Alas, that is not so. 

Like so many times fortune evades we do our best. Yet are continuously dubbed 'Liar'. 'Weak'. Never, not once, are we asked for our reasons. Yet, even if some kind soul were to become curious and ask we wouldn't get told, "Oh how sad!". No. _Oh no_.

Instead, despite the countless similarities, there would be cries of "Pity! Pity but not forgiveness!" or exclaims of "Unfortunate but not forgiven!" and, sometimes, if we are lucky, even the less desirable, "Unforgivable!".

While all the while, in hundreds of minds little incoherent voices are chirping away. Guilt overrides morals. Morals give way to judgment. Judgment becomes sentencing. And sentencing becomes guilt. A deadly cycle.

And, humorously enough for some reason moral standards raise to impossible heights when it involves someone else's problems. And even if you had previously asked for advice, non was given. People are too caught up in their own meager existence to pay heed to anyone else.

**This**, and this alone is why I wrote this.

People are stuck to a ridged moral code that many feel only needs to be upheld if some random stranger has done wrong. When it involves an acquaintance. Or, more shockingly, themselves, these codes break down. Crumbling like brick to a horrendous storm.

_Plunk…plunk…plunk…_

The sound of strict codes breaking. Breaking either to the soft, pliable smell of green law, or the melodious ringing of power.

But I shouldn't be so fast to disclose judgment. No one is without problems. In fact, the saying 'What a tangled web we weave' is in all ways, the most truthful saying imaginable. Let it be said that I begin by setting the facts, not for pity. Oh no. I don't deserve it. And anyways, I don't want to have to return the sentiment.

Instead, before judging. Take a moment and evaluate your life. Be non judgmental. An observer. Most importantly. Be a stranger…

HAH! What fun! Fear unimaginable!

But I digress…

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**A/N:Ok…I know this is weird. It's my first fic of this type, if you are confused, I'm sorry. I guess go to the next chapter then, if I have it up right now…looks guilty I'm trying to get it up the same time as this one, but it might not be up for a few days afterwards…we'll see. **  



	2. Guilt and Leisure

**Chapter 1**

**Guilt and Leisure **

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He sat on a thick plush chair, resting his feet on the table in front of him. To his left was a roaring fire, his right bookshelf after bookshelf lines the wall. He wore a pensive expression, swirling a distinctly large cup of sherry in his hand. 

Across from him sat the only other person in the room. A blond haired, young man, not yet out of school. Though circumstances beyond anyone's control changed that fact. For the boy was out of school, and despite his young age, had no choice but to give it up.

"Draco, stop your sniveling" snarled Snape

Looking up from his slouched position, it was obvious that Draco had been crying. There were dried tear marks running down his face and the floor surrounding the table was littered in napkins. Draco, despite his arrogance and haughty pride, had previously given up trying to hid his pain.

The room, though luxurious and calm, was the essence of pain and unappeased guilt. Both men, though Draco was young, he certainly had seen and done enough to be judged a man, were locked in their own minds, secluded with their own doubts and fears. Unfortunately, there was no rest for them tonight. Or, if many suspecting people have their way, there was no rest from there guilt…ever.

Draco, seeing the disgust of his previous teacher, held back a sniffle and dropped his eyes to his lap. He knew Snape wouldn't pity him. Nor would he sympathize in anyway for that matter. He chose his coffin, and now he had to lie in it.

They had just reached Malfoy's Manor a scant half an hour earlier. Snape had told the rest of the Death Eaters that he had killed Dumbledore, and Lucius was furious. His son had been asked to do something so important by their Lord, yet had failed. Both Draco and Severus secretly believed the only reason Lucius was so upset was because he was just reminded of his own failure to serve his Lord.

Voldemort's reaction was yet to be seen. Draco had been asked to discard of the Headmaster, yet on the other hand, Dumbledore was dead. It was doubtful that either would be killed, or, even punished severely unless Voldemort was already in a foul mood. Considering the fact that his plan had succeed in the death of Dumbledore, Voldemort would most likely be in a good mood, bypassing the worst of Severus' and Draco's punishment.

The two people in the room weren't naïve. They both knew that they were both going to get punished. Draco shouldn't have stalled, and Severus shouldn't have killed Dumbledore, even if Draco couldn't do it. The funny part of the whole fiasco was that if Draco couldn't kill Dumbledore, and Severus didn't kill him, Severus would be punished for not killing Dumbledore. Either way they both knew there was no escaping their punishment. They just hoped that Voldemort would be a little happier in the fact that they succeed and they would get off easier. A fact that wasn't going to come true.

Unknown to them, scant minutes before Dumbeldore's death, Voldemort was alerted to someone tampering with one of his Horecruxes. A Horecrux that was supposed to be a secret. To add insult to injury, when he went to investigate, he found the coveted item missing. Which, also unknown to the waiting guests, was where he was at the moment. So to say, he was in a foul mood.

With a sigh Severus set his now empty glass down and started to pace. For once his usually stoic face fell and was replaced with a mixture of disgust, hatred, resignation and, surprisingly, pity. Though the absence of his usual sneer was surprising enough, his eyes were what would keep and hold the attention of any onlooker. The usually icy hardness was missing, along with the wall that seemed to keep any emotion from escaping that convoluted mind of his. Instead they were deep and fathomless. They seemed to waft years of heartache and pain to show a man that no one knew, or would ever know. A second later, a second that no one noticed, his frequent sneer was in place, and his eyes were hard.

He knew that he was in no danger, now or in the far future, of being caught spying. With a mirthless bark of laughter, he realized that he didn't quite miss it. In fact he was relived his days of being a double agent was over. Though, he wasn't too pleased in the fact that he would now have to act like a prime example of a Death Eater. Something, he never truly was. Never hoped to have to fake again.

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**Flashback **

"Severussss" two red eyes pored deeply into a young dark haired youth. "Your arm."

Severus took a quick glance around him. Over 20 black cloaked and hooded figures surrounded him and the Dark Lord. He knew many of them, not unlikely, considering the fact that he had just graduated from Hogwarts with an honor in potions and had been brewing them for the Dark Lord since his sixth year.

A cold shudder racked up his spin as he realized that Dumbledore most likely knew that he was working for the Dark Lord and told all the teachers. A brief flash of guilt clouded his eyes as he remembered that he was never judged by the teachers. In fact, they treated him like any other student, when in all rights they could have turned him into the ministry. Even if there was no proof against him, it would be classified as, 'Guilt under association' and he would be in Azcaban faster then you could say Quidditch. He pushed the unwanted emotion away and handed his arm to the person in front of him.

Cold fingers bruised his arm as a warm wand tip was placed against it. The guilt lingered, floating around his mind like flies to sugar. He violently shook his head. He, Severus, had no conscious. At least, he tried to tell himself. He studied the Dark Arts, he brew poisons and, though not face to face, had put many a person in their grave.

Then, suddenly a paradox filled his senses as warm breath caressed his face while a cold voice hissed syllable by syllable, caressing and relishing every sound that was uttered by it's mouth. "Morsmordre"

Deep, gut wrenching pain, homed in the crook of his arm, spread outwards until it filled every limb. His entire body was on fire. Despite the pain his wide eyes were stuck on Voldemort's wand point. Green, so dark it was almost black, formed a thick blob, then lines left it. Slowly at first. Just one or two, then soon, hundreds of thin small lines moved around, joining and leaving each other until it resembled nothing but a tiny maze. If he wasn't so horrified he would have found the site amusing. The Dark Mark, a feared and, sometimes coveted symbol, started out as most things, a confused jumble. Not recognizable and slow to resemble even a hint of it's full glory.

A thick black skull formed. He was numb. In body and mind. He couldn't think straight, memories that weren't his were thrust into his brain. Muggles and magic folk alike being tortured, killed. Fires and screams of utter agony. Black robed figures actually _enjoying _the festivities that included maiming and raping. He wanted to barf.

He wasn't adept at Occlumency for nothing, and he knew that these were real memories. If not from Voldemort, then from the other Death Eaters. He didn't know. He didn't care. Suddenly the wand was removed from his throbbing arm and the pain started to subside, first from his fingers and toes, moving up through his outer limbs.

He was left kneeling at Voldemort's robes, his Lord's feet. The only part of his body still in pain was the throbbing tattoo on his arm. The night was silent. No birds or whispers. Just him and his pain. Both physical and metal. Though his mental anguish at the thought of innocents being hurt was a thousand times more painful. He never spared more then a passing though to who was going to receive his potions. Now, actually seeing it. It made it real.

Suddenly, and to his utter disgust, regret and guilt assaulted him. It was at that precise moment that Severus Snape realized that being a Death Eater wasn't for him.

**End Flashback **

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Draco was oblivious to his teachers pacing. Like the former potions master, he was lost in his own thoughts. Ever since he was a baby he grew up with his fathers preaching. He was never able to think for himself, nor was he expected too. It was always 'listen to your father'. Who would get his orders from Voldemort. So it was obvious that the Malfoy's had hit an uncomfortable period following the Dark Lord's demise. His father, being a typical Malfoy, rectified his uncomfortable situation by throwing money down the ministers throat. Problem solved. 

So there was a dilemma. He wasn't a full fledged Death Eater yet, and when he honestly looked into himself, he saw no yearning to be one. Just his teachings and expectations.

When he was told earlier that year that he had to 'dispose' of Hogwarts Headmaster he was, understandably, scared. That, and horrified. He had dreams, just like every other student, and murdering wasn't one of them. Even if it was an old man his father had dubbed an incompetent fool.

Well, lets not get too altruistic. He was scared for his own life. He is a Slytherine after all. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards this century, and he, Draco Malfoy, was an untrained student. The chance of him succeeding in his order was laughable. Though he wasn't stupid. He knew it was basically a suicide mission. He was his father's only heir, and his father failed a very important, yet easy mission of capturing Potter. His order was just a setup to get him either captured by Dumbledore, getting him locked in Azcaban and maybe killed later by Death Eaters. That, or fail but escape, landing him a death sentence via Voldemort. His choices weren't very wide.

The door banged open and a stranger walked in. "Come with me."

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**A/N: I hope this chapter wasn't so confusing and helped clear up any confusion. Err…I also hope it didn't confuse anyone more…Either way, hope you enjoyed it!**


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